Forced Fed
by j3nnee
Summary: Neal has to save Peter from an old enemy. Whumpage for all
1. Chapter 1

**(Chapter 1)**

The phone was ringing. Neal rolled over in bed and pulled the covers over his head as he ignored the incessant ringing of the device and finally hid his head under a pillow. At some point the phone stopped ringing and Neal smiled in his sleep, pulling his head out of from under the pillow and resuming his last pursuit: _sleep_.

He had barely started his dream again when he heard the _buzz_ of his cell phone. Peter was calling him. Who else would call this early in the morning? Neal felt around blindly from beneath the warm comforter and grabbed his cell, pulling it underneath the covers.

"Peter... this better be good." He peeked out from under the covers and sat up as he heard a different voice from the other end of the receiver. Neal wiped at his eyes looking a bit red in the cheeks.

"Elizabeth. I'm sorry. I didn't realize... What?" He heard her hysterical voice sobbing on the other end, his eyes widening more as he woke up and everything began to sink in.

"When did this happen? How..." He nodded into the phone again, face sober and serious.

"Have you already called... good. I'll be right there. Just call me if you need anything before I arrive. Not a problem." He hung up the cell and held it in his hands a few minutes staring at it in a strange manner. He didn't even hear or notice that June, his landlady had opened the bedroom door and peeked inside.

"Neal? I heard your phone ringing. Everything OK?" The young man nodded vaguely then shook his head as he pushed the blankets aside and pulled on his robe, cell still in hand. He banged into a nearby chair as he walked distractedly towards her, cursing softly as he hit his shin. June clucked her tongue.

"Not awake yet?" He shook his head as he limped towards her with a chagrined looked on his face.

"Elizabeth just called me upset and crying." Neal spoke softly. June looked at him with an expression of deep concern.

"What happened. Are they ok?" Neal shook his head then nodded as if unsure what to think.

"Elizabeth is but Peter... _they_ took him." June's eyes widened.

"_They?_" Her expression turned grim. Neal continued.

"A home invasion. She saw them take Peter away." June paled.

"I guess she called for you to meet with her. Get dressed! I'll have a thermos of coffee on the banister for you when you come down." Neal nodded to her with a relieved but serious smile as he made his way to the wardrobe in the corner, and June exited the bedroom.

Neal dug around in the bottom till he found a comfy pair of not so worn jeans, a gray cotton tee and a black button up shirt. He slipped off his pajamas and slid into the jeans and tee, tucking the latter in before throwing the black shirt over it. He grabbed some black socks and comfortable suede loafers. On the way out he pulled on a comfortable black leather jacket from the wardrobe along with his favorite hat.

It took him all of 5 to 10 minutes to dress and walk out the door, cell phone in hand. It began to vibrate as he took the steps 2 at a time. It was El.

"Yes, I'm headed over there now. Jones is with you? Tell him I'm on my way." Neal hung up the cell and stuck it in his jacket pocket noticing a bright shiny thermos on the banister as promised. June was just walking away from him into the dining room. Neal called out to her.

"Thanks June! I'll call you when I know something." She turned and smiled at him with a slightly worried look.

"Please do. Tell Elizabeth I'm thinking of her and Peter." Neal nodded with his characteristic smile, which he wasn't feeling under the circumstance, and made his way out the door. A cab was already waiting for him and he turned back briefly thinking June must have called it for him. She was a sweetheart! He slid into the cab with the thermos and told the driver the address and they were off.

Neal had the driver park a bit further up the street as they came across nothing short of a crime scene. There had to be atleast five cars parked infront of the Burke's place, all Federal vehicles, lights flashing and people swirling around.

Neal paid the cabbie and stepped onto the walk and made the trek back up to the small two-story Peter and Elizabeth shared. Crime scene tape had already been wrapped across the sidewalk blocking the path but Neal just passed under it, flashing his consultant's badge as he was stopped by an agent he didn't know. The agent nodded and let him up the few steps to the Burke's front door.

Inside was not much different than outside with more agents bustling around and dusting for prints and looking for evidence. Neal grabbed some gloves from a nearby bucket of supplies and slipped them on as he glided through the mess of agents and into the kitchen. There he found Jones and Ruiz talking, the former looking up with a slight smile of recognition to the young man.

"Neal, glad you could make it. Elizabeth was asking for you. She's upstairs." Neal nodded, giving a nod of hello to both agents before he wandered out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the second floor. He removed the gloves along the way and left them on a small table in the hallway as he made his way across the second level. There was a door at the end of the hallway he knew was the Burke's bedroom and he gave a little knock before opening it slowly. The room was all Elizabeth with a few items obviously of a _manly_ persuasion indicating Peter's involvement with living there. The young woman lay in bed with the covers pulled over her, her long dark hair pulled up in a small ponytail as she stared out the window. He heard a faint whisper from her, her voice barely audible.

"_Who is it?_" There was little emotion in the voice, a mild crack to it as she sniffled, indicating she'd been crying or still was. Neal stayed by the door, half in, half out and knocked again quietly.

"It's me..." He saw her perk up and turn, showing her tear-streaked face and flushed cheeks. Her normally bright eyes were pink and tired looking. She had been crying and he didn't blame her after what had happened.

"Thank goodness... Neal!" She practically leaped out of the bed and ran towards the young man, her arms wrapping around him tightly. He put his arms gently around her and patted Elizabeth gently. He could feel her trembling against him as she cried into his shoulder. He let her get her emotions out before pushing her gently to arms length and staring into her eyes. She reached up to dry her eyes with a wad of tissue in her hand, nose red and runny. He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.

"Take this; let's sit down." He put an arm around her and led her back to a small sitting area in the room and sat her down, then took the chair across from her, holding her hands in his. Her breath was ragged and wheezy, her lips trembling in fear if not worry. Neal didn't want to rush her but he had to know what had happened to turn a normally calm collected woman into an emotional wreck. She dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief he had given her and looked up at him after a moment.

"Ne...al... They... they took him!" Her voice trembled, shaking with so much emotion she could barely speak. He squeezed her hands gently in his and smiled in a comforting manner.

"Just take your time. Tell me what happened." She nodded with a small bob of her head and blew her nose before collecting herself a bit more, her glance roving around the room distractedly.

"I... we were sleeping when it happened. I heard a noise and woke him up." She paused to give a little sniffle and dab at her eyes again before continuing.

"Peter got up and went to check the noise once he heard it too. I stayed up here of course but when he didn't come back after a few minutes..." She looked at the young man with a tragic expression.

"I went to look for him. That's when I felt a hand around my mouth and another around my arms at the bottom of the stairs." Elizabeth's face paled and she looked about to fall into hysterics again but she didn't, Neal continuing to hold her hands gently in his.

"Take your time... I'm here. I'm going to be here for you. I promise." She nodded again looking a bit more secure as she took control of her emotions and continued her story.

"It was all so fast! I saw Peter laying on the floor in a small puddle of ... blo...od!" Her voice squeaked in terror, nearly hoarse. Neal moved over and hugged her tight from behind. She let him and cried into his arm. There was a knock on the door and Jones stepped into the room.

"Neal... can I talk to you?" Elizabeth clung to his arm a moment as if she didn't want him to leave but Neal crouched beside her and smiled, wiping a tear from her face.

"Just give me a moment and I'll be right back. Ok?" She nodded with a little wheeze of breath and let go reluctantly as he stood and walked over to Jones, closing the door behind him as they left. The agent's expression was pretty serious.

"What's going on? Elizabeth is telling me she saw Peter in a pool of _blood_? What happened here, Jones?" Neal's voice sounded more intense than he meant it to but he was upset. His friend and mentor was missing and he had no idea where or by whom. Jones nodded in an understanding manner, his own nerves looking rather tense.

"From what Mrs. Burke told us, Peter went down to investigate a sound she heard. She went down soon after to find him and one of _them_ grabbed her and held her. She saw her husband on the floor in a puddle of blood unmoving. They took him away and left her tied up in the bathroom. She managed to free herself and call us and I guess you too if you're here. Hughes was telling us not to alert you but if Elizabeth called you, I won't say anything." Neal nodded feeling a bit of anger at the situation and for Hughes continued refusal to let him in on things while he risked his life to help the Agency out on cases. Still this was for Peter. He would risk his life regardless in this case. He owed so much to the Burkes.

"But that's not why I called you out here. We just got a call from the people who took Peter." Neal blinked with wide eyes at the agent and pushed him a little ways down the hall.

"_Peter's alive? You're sure? I don't want to give any false hope to El if I can help it_." Their voices were harsh whispers but quiet enough to be hidden. Jones nodded.

"_They called with a list of demands, one of which I think you might find interesting._" Neal blinked again at the agent not liking what he was about to hear.

"Interesting _good_ or interesting _bad_? I'm already feeling my skin crawl at the way you worded that." Jones glanced around moving the young con further down the hall out of earshot.

"Nobody can know I told you this... but I knew I had to." Neal nodded, moving his head closer to hear the agent's words.

"There was one demand for money but if that could not be met... they wanted you." The agent's face had reddened as he said that, seeing Neal's reaction as the young man leaned back against the wall in shock.

"Me? Did they say why?" Jones shook his head.

"No. They just said if they couldn't have the money, they wanted Burke's _pet con_ as collateral for his safe return. Those were their exact words." Neal looked sick, his face pale and beads of sweat on his brow. _Him_... they wanted _him_. Of course he would give himself up... He owed it to Peter but to _whom_ was he giving himself up to? Was this something to do with _Kate_ and _the music box_? The man with the ring perhaps? Fowler? Maybe someone he wronged in the past. He started to feel sicker, moving over to the bathroom door and closing it. He threw up in the toilet, but since he hadn't eaten, it was more the dry heaves than anything. He was still sick though. He heard Jones on the other side.

"Neal, you ok?" Neal nodded at the door, flushing the toilet and rinsing his hands, face and mouth. He opened the door a few minutes later and nodded again at the agent.

"Yeah... just glad I didn't eat anything this morning." He brushed past the agent shakily, stopping half way down the hallway as he saw Elizabeth peering out of her bedroom door in her sweats. It was as if she could read his face. He turned and went back to the bathroom and closed the door, his back against the frame. He couldn't tell her... he wasn't supposed to know. Neal felt a cold feeling creep over him. He didn't mind giving himself up for Peter but something felt wrong here. Whoever had sent the demands knew about Peter's relationship with Neal.

After a few minutes, he opened up the door and came face to face with Elizabeth and Jones. The agent looked apologetic, while El's face was pale and flushed.

"Neal?" Her voice sounded desperate. He looked at her devastated face not knowing what to say as he looked across to Jones who shrugged helplessly.

Neal couldn't tell her about the demands yet, his mouth in a half-open gape as if he were going to speak when Jones coughed. Elizabeth turned towards the young agent, sniffling. He took her arm gently, making a motion for Neal to come along as he led her back to her room. Jones motioned for Elizabeth to sit, Neal next to her and Jones sitting across. The agent looked nervous.

"Mrs. Burke... We heard from your husband's captors." Her breath came in a little cry, her face turning to Neal, hands gripping his arm as he moved to hug her gently. Jones looked nervous.

"They had only two demands." Elizabeth gripped Neal's arm till he winced silently. Her voice came in a small whisper.

"Demands? What do they want?" Jones gave a quick glance up at Neal then back to Mrs. Burke.

"Their first demand was for money. Two million to be exact." She gawked at him, red eyes blinking in disbelief.

"We don't have that kind of money..." She looked confused, her face looking between the agent and Neal. He reddened a bit knowing what Jones was going to say next and dreading it. He didn't want her to know but if Jones had been sent to tell her... he could do nothing about it. Elizabeth sniffed and blew at her nose with Neal's handkerchief as she looked expectantly at Jones.

"What was their second demand?" Elizabeth's voice was a bit less soft, her manner nervous as she watched the agent shift in his chair nervously. Jones glanced at Neal again before he spoke.

"Their second demand was... Neal Caffrey." Elizabeth didn't say anything, staring at the agent incredulously before she turned and looked at Neal.

"They want Neal? Why?" She looked at the young man inquisitively, her face confused. Neal closed his eyes, moving away but she held onto his arm.

"Neal... why would they want you for Peter? Is there something you're not telling me?" She looked between him and Jones, her manner hurt and upset. Neal pulled his arm from her hand and stood a few feet away.

"I don't know...honestly." He turned and looked at her with sad eyes wishing he had some way to comfort her but knowing he had no answers. His glance went to Jones who nodded.

"Mrs. Burke, they didn't say why they wanted Caffrey, just that if they couldn't get the money..." His voice trailed off as Elizabeth stood and looked around the room without giving them a direct glance. She walked over to the bed and sat down, eyes staring at the floor and then back at the window.

"I want to be alone..." Jones nodded, looking at Neal and they both started to leave when Elizabeth looked back with bright, almost angry eyes and caught the young con's glance in them.

"Except for Neal." Jones blinked looking between them, nodded and closed the door leaving Caffrey with Mrs. Burke. The young man faced the door, his back to El as he tried to dab at his eyes without looking obvious.

"Neal... look at me. Tell me the truth." Her voice sounded tired, too tired to chide him. He wasn't hiding anything so why did he feel so guilty? Neal finally turned, eyes lowered. He was in the dark as much as she was but he felt like this was somehow his fault. He didn't want to face her without some kind of insight but he had to, his blue eyes flashing up at her in a guilty manner despite himself. She motioned for him to sit beside her and he obeyed.

They sat there in silence, neither one looking at the other, for just a little while before she finally grasped his arm and drew his attention to her again.

"Neal, if you know anything... Please... I just want Peter back home safe and I know you want that too." He nodded at her without meeting her eyes. Why did he feel this way? Why couldn't he just look at her and let her know how he felt? Elizabeth seemed to feel his turmoil and squeezed his arm gently, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"I know this isn't your fault. I don't blame you but I need to know the truth, Neal. Please. For Peter's sake. Who took him?" She looked up at him and he finally met her eyes reluctantly. There was so much emotion in her stare, so much honesty, it was almost too much for him to take but he faced her.

"I don't know... I was as surprised as everyone else that someone would ask for me. I..." He paused.

How much did she know about him and Kate? Had Peter told her about his search for the music box? If this involved the man with the ring, was Elizabeth aware of all of it? Every last dirty detail? She had shown she knew some information about his past but he wasn't sure how much Peter had shared. Neal sighed to himself, his emotions getting the better of him as he fought to do the right thing.

"Neal, I didn't want to ask but I can sense it... do you think this is about Kate?" Her comment made him turn and blink at her with surprise. He didn't know what to think or what to say, his throat dry, his tongue thick in his mouth.

"El... The people who have Kate, they want a certain item they _think_ I have." She looked at him curiously, still holding his arm firmly but gently.

"Go on..." She said softly. He swallowed hard before continuing, his stomach feeling sick again but he didn't have time to acknowledge it.

"I don't have it but I know someone who might be able to help me find it only... Peter scared her away. I... I don't know if she'll talk to me again but if that's why they want me, I need to find her and see if she can get it for me." He paused.

"I don't know if these people who have Peter are the same ones who have Kate. If they are... I'll..." He dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve and started to stand.

"Elizabeth, if this is my fault, I'm willing to give myself up for your husband. Don't think..." She stood and hugged him again, turning him towards her.

"Neal, I want Peter back safe and sound but you shouldn't have to do this. I would never want that." She wiped a tear from his cheek with a wistful smile.

"I don't want to lose you either. Peter would never forgive himself and neither would I if we lost you." Neal smiled back at her trying to hold back his emotions but a few tears rolled down his cheek and he sniffed. She smiled at him and handed him a tissue.

"Neal, tell Jones I'll be downstairs in a moment. I'm going to change." He nodded at her, giving her a brief hug as she embraced him and whispered.

"Thank you for being there for me... and telling me the truth." He nodded and left the room. He dabbed at his eyes a bit turning to find Jones standing at the top of the stairs. Neal composed himself and walked over to the agent.

"Elizabeth says, she'll be down in a few. She's just going to change." Jones nodded, blocking Neal a moment and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Is there something I should know?" Neal shook his head without hesitation.

"Nothing Peter and Elizabeth don't already know. She'll fill you in. I need something to eat." The agent nodded, letting him pass.

**oOoOoOo**

**(_Updated 11-02-10_)**


	2. Chapter 2

**(Chapter 2)**

Peter had been sleeping. _Had_ being the operative word up till he felt a very strong and insistent nudge from his wife, Elizabeth. She was whispering to him, her breath tickling his ear.

"_Honey... did you hear that_?" Peter rolled over finally and looked blearily at his wife in the dark. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light from the window, worry obvious. He pushed himself up to his elbows and really looked at her.

"_What did you hear?_" She was about to tell him when he heard it. It was a soft kind of "_scratching_" sound but nothing their dog had ever made. It sounded more like someone picking at a lock or else breaking into a home... his home.

Peter sat up and pulled the covers aside as he motioned for his wife to remain quiet. He pulled on a brown terry cloth robe over his tee and sweats padding quietly in his socked feet. The furnace had gone out recently so they had both been dressing a bit more warmly for bed than usual. Maybe it was a good thing. It would have been rather embarrassing to go out and meet a burglar with nothing but boxers.

Peter closed the bedroom door quietly behind him and crept down the stairs peeking around before making his way down to the first level. He had grabbed his service revolver off the nightstand before leaving El alone, hoping he wouldn't have to use it but unsure of what he would find when he went downstairs. He avoided the few steps he knew creaked and ducked below the banister as he saw a shadow cross at the end of the room by the kitchen window.

Someone _had_ broken in! Peter held his gun at the ready when a weird thought occurred to him... Had Neal come to visit and just didn't knock again? The thought struck him as normal but it was too strange a thing to expect even for Neal. He wouldn't show up unannounced this time of the morning and to break in when Peter or El weren't expecting him. The young man was impulsive but he wasn't stupid.

The shadow crossed the room towards the stairs and Peter's hiding place at the bottom of the stairs. The agent stood as still as he could, hoping to blend in with the shadows as the figure stepped towards him and the front door. Obviously they had broken in through the back and were going to let more people in through the front from the look of it. He didn't give them a chance, cocking the gun audibly and standing up.

"Stay right where you are!" Peter hissed it quietly enough that his voice wouldn't travel upstairs but the figure would definitely hear him. They did and stood still as a statue, arms up.

"Now, turn slowly and show me your hands. Slowly now..." Peter kept the gun pointed at them as they turned around and faced him. The figure was dressed entirely in black with a ski mask and a piece hanging off their shoulder in a holster.

Peter removed their gun and put it in the pocket of his robe, waving at the man to move away from the door and back into the living room / den area. Peter reached for the phone on the wall and started dialing when he pushed the buttons a little harder and cursed softly. Line was cut and he didn't bring his cell down with him. Dammit!

"My associates figured you'd try to call out." The man's voice was softly accented in what Peter could only figure was a European dialect. Maybe French. He wasn't sure. He grimaced at the figure and waved him back towards a chair, motioning them to sit down.

"Just stay there and don't make me shoot you!" Peter kept the gun on the figure as he tried to figure out what to do. He glanced around the room briefly, his eyes spying something: his wife's cell on the coffee table charging. _Good girl, El!_ Peter walked backwards towards the table, eyes never leaving the intruder, gun at eye level.

He only looked back for a second to pick up the cell and disconnect it when something blindsided him from the left and he collapsed to the floor. He saw bright lights like stars beneath his closed lids, his head thrumming with a heavy beat of his heart. He could just feel the cool wooden floor boards beneath his cheek as he lay there, stunned and unable to move. Someone stepped on his hand and he winced ever so slightly as he felt himself reluctantly let go of his gun and someone pried it from his fingers.

"Idiot! You make too much noise!" They whispered in low tones that allowed the agent to only catch about half of what they were saying. It didn't help with the ringing in his ears from the head trauma. Peter groaned softly. Someone hissed nearby.

"Shut him up before someone hears!" Peter felt hands moving his arms tightly behind him, the sound of something tearing like tape as it was wrapped around his wrist securing them. He felt a rag stuffed into his mouth choking him just before a piece of what he could only guess was duct tape was pulled over his lips. Afterwards someone pulled him up by the collar and dragged him over to a wall and sat him up against it. A flashlight shone brightly in his face blinding him as he fought against nausea and pain from his head wound.

"Where is Neal Caffrey?" Another voice whispered harshly to him in the same accented tones at the first intruder. So these were past associates of Neal's? Peter wondered what the young con had done to piss them off. The agent felt some anger towards the young man at putting him and his wife in danger just before he felt the back of his head smacked up against the wall bringing more pain and nausea.

"Tell me Agent Burke... where is Neal Caffrey?" He heard the soft cock of a pistol and felt the metal pressed up against his chest.

"Don't make me ask you again." The tape was removed from his mouth as was the rag and he coughed.

"What do you want with him? Who are you?" Peter was afraid but a part of him wanted to protect the young man. The masked man seemed to sense that and there was a quiet pop as the gun went off against his left shoulder. Peter nearly cried out but someone had covered his mouth preventing his scream from being heard. The rag and tape were returned to his mouth and he slumped to the floor limply. Peter felt a slight warmth dribbling down his shoulder and chest soaking through his tee and terry robe. His shoulder burned, his vision tunneling to black.

"Peter?" He was barely conscious but heard a familiar voice calling from nearby. Who...? "Peter? Are you ok?" It was Elizabeth.

Peter wanted to move, to call to her but his body refused to respond and his captors had made sure he couldn't speak. He fought to stay conscious for her sake but his body gave into the head trauma and gunshot wound and he was soon out.

**()()()**

"Wakey Wakey, Fed!" He felt cold water thrown over him in a shock that made his body shudder. Peter woke up to darkness, a blindfold pulled tightly over his eyes. He tried to move but his body had been secured to some kind of wide post, his arms up and behind him, himself in a forced kneel, legs pulled back and around the same post and secured. His whole body ached as he slumped there shivering from the cold water, head wound and blood loss. His head still throbbed with a rhythm all its own as he fought to stay conscious and figure out what was going on.

Peter had been at home asleep. His wife heard a noise and woke him up. He had heard it soon after, going downstairs to investigate. Someone had broken into his home and then he'd been jumped and shot. Elizabeth... she was coming downstairs when he passed out. Was she here? He struggled weakly at his bonds, head turning to look despite the blindfold, but he gave up after a moment, too tired to continue. He heard a laugh from somewhere nearby.

"No, your wife isn't here. We made sure she would be able to call Caffrey. If anyone could convince him of your plight, it would be her." Peter stiffened at the mention of his wife in such a callous manner.

They did this to get to Neal and they'd use his wife's sympathies and his own with the young con? No matter what it was they sought to use Neal for, Peter felt his ire growing. He was no longer blaming Neal but these "_monsters_" for what was happening. Neal was not responsible for this no matter what these crooks thought he had done or wanted him to now do. He felt the tape pulled from his mouth and he spit out the rag, coughing and sputtering.

"What is it you want with him? He's not your errand boy anymore, whoever you are!" His voice was tired and exhausted but he was mad. He didn't care what happened to himself but he didn't want these criminals to draw the young man back to his former life after Peter had taken so much care to help Neal reform. It wasn't fair for them to use himself or his wife in this manner to hurt the young man. He heard a laugh from the person that sounded like someone who'd heard a good joke.

"You underestimate his usefulness and his loyalties. We've sent our demands to your FBI friends and wait for an answer. I'm sure it will be exactly what we think it will be and prove just how much of a coward your "_pet con_" really is." Peter stiffened at the term the man used in regards to Neal, wanting to slap the smirk he could only imagine must be across the man's face. Neal might not be the most honest person at times but he was no coward. Peter had seen the young man sacrifice himself many a time for himself as well as others. He was a reluctant hero but who wasn't?

"So how much did you set my ransom at? I'm curious." Peter figured talking to the man might give him a little insight to the criminal and at least give him an out if he was able to get it. For El's sake and Neal's, he needed an out. He heard the man chuckle.

"Trying to chat me up. Isn't that _#2_ in the FBI rule book for negotiating with criminals? I'll bite." The sound of a chair or something being pulled nearer resounded in a small echo around the room. This gave Peter some idea where he could be. He felt cool cement beneath him or so it felt through his thin sweat pants. Maybe a basement or something similar with the concrete post he was tied to but he couldn't be sure. The echoing sound made him think of cement definitely and a basement-like structure.

"Well... if you must know, we asked for two million dollars for your safe return to your wife." Peter nodded having figured they'd ask for the typical million or so for his return. He knew El and himself weren't that rich but someone would find the cash to help her.

"So original. I feel like I was kidnapped by a pro. Don't worry... you'll get your money." His voice was more sarcastic and braver than he actually felt but he knew showing fear would not help the situation. He was here and he would have to deal with it and try to stay alive. He heard the man chuckle again.

"Such brave words and false bravado. No need to hide what you feel... you haven't heard what my second demand was." Peter stiffened at the menace in the man's voice, a kind of cold dread making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He tried to sound normal when he answered.

"I can only imagine. Do tell." Something tickled his left ear, a soft breeze as the mystery criminal whispered: "_Neal Caffrey._" Peter turned to face the direction of the voice despite his blindfold, slack-jawed. He felt the figure move away and could almost imagine a kind of knowing, maybe menacing smile on the man's face.

"I thought that might interest you." There was a short pause and another whisper of breath by the Fed's ear.

"Do you think your "_con_" will trade himself for you or take the coward's way out with money?" Peter heard the man's footsteps echo and move away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

**()()()**

The Fed sighed to himself, his body taut with pain from being bound in the same position for so long. His shoulder burned when he moved, no sign his captors had done anything to dress the wound, a small trickle of warmth still evident of it bleeding. The knot on the back of his head throbbed as he leaned back and into the concrete post and tried to stay conscious.

He thought about Elizabeth and felt a twinge of guilt. What could she be thinking right now. Had she seen him hurt and bleeding or had they let her be? Were Jones and the rest of the agents on the case?

His thoughts began to swim and scatter like so many waves on the ocean, as consciousness drifted slowly away on the current and his head slumped forward.

**oOoOoOo**

**Peter dreamed he was sitting at the table with Elizabeth, reading the newspaper and chewing on a piece of toast with butter. His wife was reading the **_**Leisure**_ **section, sipping at a cup of coffee with a thoughtful look.**

**"_Would you mind passing me the Comics?_" Peter turned to see Neal sitting to his left in an empty chair, his normal smirking smile meeting the agent. The Fed blinked trying to figure out how the young con had entered his home much less made his way to sit down at his table.**

**"_Neal? When did you..._" Elizabeth looked over the paper with an almost warning glance to her husband.**

**"**_**Honey, Neal is our guest. Be polite.**_**" There was a slight edge to her voice despite his own annoyance to find his sanctuary and breakfast ritual interrupted. He nodded to his wife obediently, chewing on his toast a bit harder than he meant to. Neal seemed to notice, his face still the usual **_**cat that ate the canary**_ **smile.**

**"_Come on Peter. I'm just visiting. Besides, you need me. I'm your ticket out of here._" The agent blinked at the young man.**

**"_What do you mean?_"**

_The scene started to swirl into some kind of sick kaleidoscope and suddenly Peter saw a figure tied and blindfolded to a large concrete post in what looked like some kind of sub-basement or cellar made of stone. Neal crouched beside the figure. Peter suddenly realized he was looking at himself tied to the post and gawked unable to say anything more. He turned to look at the young con who was gently brushing hair from the bound figure's face._

**"**_**I'm sorry if I've caused you any problems Peter. I know I've been a handful. I'll take your place. You can go with El. Go home... I'll be out of your life. Everything can go back to the way it was.**_**" **_Neal pointed and Peter turned to see his wife run over and hug the bound figure, tears in her eyes as she crouched there crying over them. Suddenly Peter saw himself with El, walking away, another figure bound in his place and Neal nowhere to be seen. This other Peter Burke turned and looked at Peter briefly, not even acknowledging Neal's presence as they walked away into the background. The agent peered down at the figure of the young con now tied to the post in his place and obviously in pain._

**"**_**Neal?**_**" **_Peter tried to move closer to the figure of the young man but found himself stuck where he was._

**"**_**Neal... I can't let you do this!**_**" **_He tried again to move forward without success. A hand touched his shoulder. He turned to see the other Peter Burke._

**"**_**Why do you care about what happens to him when this is your chance to go home? You can see Elizabeth again... Just let it go.**_**" **_Peter gawked at the other him and retorted._

**"**_**No. I won't let him sacrifice himself for me! I can't let him do that. This isn't his fault.**_**" **_He saw his other self shake their head and smile knowingly._

**"_That's what you say now..._"**

**"**_**Listen to him, Honey. He's right. You know he is.**_**" **_Peter turned and saw Elizabeth smiling at him, beckoning._

**"**_**Come home, Peter. Let them have Neal. Please... just come home.**_**" **_Her voice was so sweet and alluring, her hand turning his face away from Neal, their eyes meeting._

**"**_**Just come home. That's what you and I want. Neal can take care of himself. He's done it before.**_**" **_Peter felt himself nodding suddenly at the thought of going home._

_Neal had caused him quite a few problems and his home had been invaded and bugged by Fowler among others because of his involvement with the young con. Why turn his life upside-down for someone who would just lie and steal and cheat if given half the chance?_

_Peter didn't look back, his eyes locked with his beautiful wife's. She kissed him on the lips and he returned the favor, feeling suddenly more free than he ever had. No more responsibilities. They could go back and live their lives as they had. Nobody would show up and interrupt his breakfast or cause him problems at work._

_Elizabeth smiled at him sweetly making him forget everything as he followed her into the darkness and away from the bound figure._

He woke up to the sound of traffic outside and the alarm-clock radio playing the news. Peter looked around and found he was in his own bed. He felt confused as if he had just been elsewhere but maybe it had all been a weird dream. He couldn't be sure, his head still a bit foggy from whatever it was he had been dreaming. He heard a soft murmuring beside him and saw Elizabeth sleeping contently. As he rolled over and looked at her beautiful face, her eyes fluttered open and stared up at him with a happy expression.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" Her voice was soft and a little sultry, her hands reaching up to pull his face down and kiss him gently on the lips. He returned the kiss and smiled back.

"Yes. You?" She nodded, curling up in his arms and they lay like that a few minutes before he looked at the clock and saw the time.

"I need to get ready for work or I'm going to be late." He started to leave when she grabbed his arm gently.

"Just a few more minutes?" He looked at her beautiful eyes beckoning to him and nodded, hugging her close, his lips kissing her forehead. She was everything to him. His whole world and he'd do anything to keep her close to him and happy. He held her close, a warm happy feeling coming over him.

"_In today's news, a body of a young man in his late 20s early thirties was found bound and gagged to a support column in the sub-basement of an abandoned building. The name of the victim has not yet been released to the public until the victim's family has been identified. If you have any information about this crime, please call..._"

Elizabeth reached over and turned the radio off with a push of the snooze button.

"Too early to hear about that kind of thing. Besides, it has nothing to do with us." She sat up and hugged Peter, her eyes flashing at him happily.

"I'll go start the shower for you." She slipped out of bed and left the bedroom with a quick glance back, blowing a kiss to him. Peter sat up and pushed his feet over the side of the bed, pulling on a brown terry cloth robe. As he pulled it round he felt something wet on the shoulder and looked down. His hands were covered in something red and thick. _It was blood_!

Peter pulled the robe from him and dropped it on the floor, stepping away. He looked scared... terrified as he looked at the robe which seemed to be seeping blood from the shoulder and onto the floor towards him. He shuffled away from it and bumped into something cold. He turned and found himself in what appeared to be a stone basement of some kind. His back was pressed up against a concrete support column. He was confused, wondering how he got here from his bedroom when he heard a muffled groan of pain from somewhere to the side and below him. He turned and saw a figure bound and secured in a kneeling position to the same column.

Peter didn't know what to think other than to get a better look at the figure as he crouched down and pulled the blindfold from the person's face. He gasped as he recognized the figure.

"_**Neal? Neal talk to me!**_" He removed a large piece of duct tape from the young man's lips and pulled a rag out of the young man's mouth.

"_**Neal... wake up! It's Peter.**_" The young man's eyes fluttered opened and stared up at him, large and brightly blue, an exhausted, pained look on his face.

"_**Peter?**_" The agent nodded, working on untying the young man. He had barely set the young man's arm's free when he felt himself thrown aside by some unseen figure.

"_**How can you help him now after what you did? Selfish bastard!**_" Peter turned and saw another Neal standing there. This Neal was dressed entirely in black, their eyes flashing angrily as they held Peter up by the neck and held them at eye level.

"_**You sacrificed him for your freedom and now you act like you care? Don't do us any favors!**_" The second Neal dropped Peter to the ground, their eyes still furious.

"_**Go home to your wife and leave us alone!**_" Peter felt something warm and wet dripping down his cheeks as he stood there and looked at the young man, wiping his face to find he was crying.

"_**Peter... your shower is ready. You'll be late for work!**_" He turned and saw Elizabeth standing there near what appeared to be their bathroom door at the end of a long hallway leading from the current scene. He blinked at her and the doorway then back at the two Neals, the darker one comforting the one who lay hurt and semi-bound on the floor.

"_**Peter?**_" He turned and saw his wife smiling at him in that _come hither fashion_, blowing him a kiss. He wanted to go with her. He wanted to be home... safe, but Neal...

"_**Why didn't you just send me back to jail if you were going to abandon me? To think I trusted you!**_" The second Neal's voice was cold and emotionless. The young man's anger ripped at the very heart of Peter as he saw the figures and he took a few hesitant steps towards them, falling to his knees and brushing a bit of hair from the bound young man's face despite the other Neal's glare.

"_**I'm sorry, Neal. You don't deserve this. Please forgive me.**_" He turned and looked at Elizabeth. She walked over and crouched beside them, hugging Peter.

"_**I love you Peter. I knew you would do the right thing.**_" She looked at the young man and hugged him as well.

"_**Don't worry. Your trust isn't misspent.**_" She held out a hand to each of them, Peter extending one of his own to the young man.

"_**Let's go home.**_" Peter heard himself say as he saw the real Neal standing beside them smiling.

**oOoOoOo**

Peter's face relaxed as he knelt bound to the post, his body slumping even more. He was coming back to consciousness but his conscience felt better about his decision. It wasn't worth his own freedom to steal Neal's. He had to get free so the exchange couldn't happen. Hughes didn't appreciate the young con's potential for good as Peter did. He had to be sure they didn't sacrifice the young man and use him as a pawn.

Peter listened carefully and when he was sure nobody was around he did the only thing he could think of. A quiet gasp escaped his lips despite the real pain he felt as he dislocated his left shoulder and felt the ropes around his hands loosen enough for his left hand to slip free and soon his right. Peter bit his lip hard in reaction, tasting blood after a moment but he dealt with the pain, loosening his legs and sliding away from the post as he lay breathless on the cool cement floor. He panted from pain and exhaustion, his legs numb from kneeling for so long but he finally made himself move until he was able to get enough strength into his limbs to push himself up with the help of the concrete post. He pulled the blindfold off and squinted in the dimly lit room that was as he had imagined: a sub-basement.

There was only a single light hanging from a string in the center of the room, splashing light faintly in a small circular fashion. A wooden door stood off to one side. It didn't look too sturdy but in his present condition, Peter wasn't sure he could break it down if it wasn't open. First things first though.

Peter looked at his left arm hanging loosely from his side, blood dripping from his wound where he'd been shot. The wound stung worse now as he stepped shakily away from the column. After he had gotten a good 5 or so feet from it, he mustered up as much energy as he could and ran at the post ramming his left shoulder against it hard. He somehow kept himself from screaming, tasting more blood as he bit hard into his lip from the pain. At least his arm was back in its socket again but now it was bleeding in earnest but he had to ignore it if he was going to escape.

He removed his tee and made a make-shift sling and bandage for his arm and limped unsteadily towards the wooden door and tried the knob. It was open! Peter was suspicious and put an ear against the door but heard nothing so he gently turned the knob and pulled it open as quietly as he could.

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note****:** _Updated due to an error. Thanks to __**GeorgiaMomma**__ for reminding me of this error. I had forgotten to update it. I'm actually going to go through and update a bit of this story now that I see some errors I missed. The pitfalls of writing... typos and other mishaps. ;) 11-02-10_


	3. Chapter 3

Forced Fed 1b

Neal made his way downstairs and into the Burke's kitchen. He saw some fruit and other items out in the open he could eat but even so, he felt too sick from the situation to think about eating even something as innocent as a banana from the bowl on the kitchen table. He needed some air, making his way past several agents as he passed through the back door into the small yard behind the Burke's two-story home.

A set of three wide concrete steps led down to a well manicured but tiny garden. He sat on the top step, chin resting on his knees as he looked around the yard deep in thought. The yard, though tiny, spoke volumes about both Peter and Elizabeth. He could see a small vegetable garden, probably Elizabeth's, sitting next to a small bed of roses, yellow, and a few small shade trees one of which appeared to be apple. A circular island of cement sat in the middle of it all and held a wrought iron table with a frosted glass top and four matching chairs. A small grill sat off the corner of that, currently covered with a large canvas top that kept it free of leaves and snow. Neal could just imagine Peter out here grilling burgers in the middle of Summer with Elizabeth and some of their friends. The young man sighed audibly to himself and wrapped his arms around his knees, hiding his face in the midst of it all.

"Neal?" The young man looked up as he heard Elizabeth Burke's voice behind him. He wiped at his eyes a moment and tried to smile but he wasn't feeling it. El was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a warm blue and green sweater. She closed the door behind her and sat beside him on the small stoop, wrapping her arm in his gently. He tried not to look at her, feeling guilty beyond words at the situation. He didn't know how, but he _was_ responsible for Peter's current problems. The agent might feel kind-hearted and sorry for him but Neal knew he had done nothing to deserve that trust or kindness. He had to make a decision and _cowboy up_ as Peter called it. He had to be a man and face his past and do the right thing. He felt a gentle squeeze on his hand and looked over at El.

"Are you ok? I know how I feel about everything..." She paused as if she wasn't sure how to finish but then she smiled at him in her gentle manner and continued. "But how do you feel? I need to know." Neal looked at her a moment then turned his head and looked around the garden distractedly. He felt her hand grasp his chin and pull it towards her. "Neal, you don't have to do everything alone. That's something you and Peter share... stubborness. You have friends who care for you." He saw her smirk at him and he smiled slightly back still unable to answer her. He stood up after a few minutes and brushed his jeans off, holding out a hand to help her up. She shook her head and smiled slightly. "I'm going to sit out here for a moment." He nodded silently and with a sad reluctance, he left her there and went back inside. Jones was just walking into the kitchen at that moment and made a motion to Neal.

"Neal, we have to talk. Hughes is thinking we can get the money for Peter's release and negotiate..." Neal held up his hand and the agent stopped talking. "Tell them, whoever they are, I will exchange myself for Peter." Jones started to protest but Neal held up his hand and started to walk away. "I'm going back to June's to tie up a few things... You'll find me there." Neal left the kitchen and passed through the rest of the house and out the front door. He paused only a moment on the front porch, an urge to glance back at the Burke's house strong but he didn't and kept walking, passing under the police tape and down the street to hail a taxi.

***

Neal stared up at the huge house on the corner as he exited the taxi. It had been his home since he left prison and started working with Peter Burke and the FBI. It was by chance he had met June and come to live in her home in an apartment nothing short of a penthouse with a terrace overlooking a 10 million dollar view of New York City. He sighed walking down the sidewalk and entering the door at the bottom with his passkey. He closed it behind him with a soft clang and entered the long hallway leading into a huge den / foyer with a hearth, a dining room visible just beyond in the next room. He glanced around, relieved that he was alone, and started up the huge staircase to the left. Neal stopped short of his door, seeing it was slightly ajar. He looked around and saw a small urn outside in the hallway full of umbrellas and some canes and pulled a sturdy wooden cane from the bunch, pushing the door open quietly. He peered around and almost jumped seeing June staring at him from the bedroom area. She had a hand full of clean sheets, towels and some other linens. He pushed the cane behind him and smiled sheepishly.

"I was just leaving you some clean sheets and towels. I didn't expect you back so soon." June left the pile of linens on the bed and walked over to him, motioning for him to sit with her on the sofa. "So... how is Elizabeth? Any news about Peter?" She sounded concerned, her hands holding his gently, eyes looking directly into his. Neal tried not to squirm or reveal how he felt but he had the feeling she could read him. "Elizabeth is doing better but she's still very upset." He stopped, turning away for a moment to look towards the terrace. "Peter's captors asked for 2 million dollars. I'm supposed to deliver it and get him back safe. I need to head out soon." She nodded at his words with a worried expression. He stood up and walked over to the open terrace and made his way to the ledge. He looked over at the view thinking about how much he was going to miss being here and talking to June. He felt her hand on his shoulder soon after, a motherly look of concern on her face.

"Everything will work out Neal. I trust you're doing what needs to be done to help Peter." He blinked at her, mouth open to speak but she placed a single finger over his lips and shook her head. She gave him a tight hug, a soft sniffle coming from her. Neal hugged her back, tightly, his own eyes feeling warm and wet but he fought the desire to cry. It would just make it harder for him to do what he was about to do.

"I'm sure everything will turn out for the best." He spoke softly as he pushed her away gently and looked into her eyes with a smile. She peered back curiously but nodded. "Just come back safe, _both_ of you." He nodded obediently as she left him, walking out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Neal sighed, running a hand though his hair and walking back to peer over the ledge one last time. He thought about what needed to be done before he left and walked back inside and to a small table with a chess board on it. He grabbed a pad and paper from it and took it with him to the bed where he sat and began to write.

***

Peter looked out into another small square room with a stone staircase leading up to another wooden door like the one he had just exited. He hugged the wall and dragged himself slowly up the stairs, listening to the door at the top before finding it like the last one open. He opened it slowly and peered out into another dimly lit room but this one had windows. There were two on either side of him, both covered in foil to keep the sunlight and prying eyes out. He moved over to one of the windows and pulled a corner of the covering and peered out at an alleyway. He squinted into the afternoon sun, a yellow cab a blur at the far end of the alleyway. Peter felt around but the window was sealed shut and he didn't want to risk making any noise breaking the glass to escape. He peered around the room and found a hatch hidden in the wall in the shadows but it was locked and no obvious knob to open it. Peter cursed looking back at the window and thinking about breaking it when he heard someone outside the hatch. He looked around the small room but saw nowhere to hide. He saw the hatch opening up slowly, sliding open as Peter tried to think what to do. The agent pushed himself up against the wall beside the door in the shadows, hoping he wouldn't be seen.

"Take it downstairs!" The voice was familiar. It sounded like the man who had mocked him when he was down in that sub-basement. Peter kept his ground, holding his breath as two men passed him without looking up, carrying a large canvas bag between them. They walked over to the wooden door to the stairs, opened it up and started down, never noticing Peter in the shadows. He wanted to leave but noticed a shadow outside, possibly the man with the accent but he couldn't be sure till he heard them speak again. He smelled the scent of a cigarette nearby and heard the sound of someone squishing something with their foot before the shadow moved and started inside. With the other two guys down the stairs already, Peter took his chances and rammed the figure that entered, slamming them against the opposite wall. He heard a groan, a tall distinguished looking man with auburn hair and a nice leather jacket slumping against the wall. Peter felt around and found a gun inside the man's jacket, taking it and made his way quickly out the door and towards the street.

At the end of the alleyway, Peter paused, vision swimming. He saw a familiar vehicle and stumbled towards it, knocking on the back of the large truck. It read _Municipal Utilities_ but the person who opened the back door wasn't from the city. It was Jones. The young agent blinked at the bloodied, beat up figure before him and gawked momentarily.

"Peter? But..." He looked at the agent curiously who helped him inside the van with a furtive glance around the street and closed the truck doors. Inside sat Ruiz and a few other agents, all gawking at the sight of Peter leaning on Jones as he stumbled inside. Jones sat the agent in one of the chairs and threw a jacket over him.

"Jones... tell Neal... I escaped." His body shuddered a moment as everything shut down and he lost consciousness.

***

Neal heard someone coming up the stairs and knock on his door.

"Neal? It's agent Jones. Ready?" The young man glanced at the door with a nauseated look but knew he had to do what he was going to do if Peter was going to be safe. He left the notes on the bed in individual envelopes along with his pass key to the house in the one marked _June_. He had put the linens away, closed the wardrobe and looked himself over in the full-length mirror on it's side only for a moment. He was back in the clothes he had worn that day when he had left prison with Peter. It was a simple ensemble and not very stylish but he didn't want to take anything that wasn't his. He was leaving for good this time. Neal knew that... felt it and it tore him up inside.

"Coming!" Neal stepped away from the mirror and walked over to the door, opening it up. Jones stood in the hallway looking down the staircase, back to the door. He turned, an equally worried look on his face as he watched Neal close the door and walk towards him.

"You're sure about this? Hughes says we have..." Neal just glared at him to end the conversation and started down the stairs.

"I'm sure. Let's go." His voice sounded hollow, his footsteps those of a condemned man but he had been in jail before. This would just be another kind of prison but atleast this time it was for a good cause. Peter would be safe and Elizabeth happy again. He was doing the right thing.

At the bottom of the staircase he saw June standing there, waiting for him. She looked at his clothes and opened her mouth to speak but he interrupted her.

"I figured I would need to blend in." She nodded silently, her eyes shiny. He turned to follow Jones out when she called out. "Wait... just wait a moment." Neal paused reluctantly. He didn't want to draw this good-bye out anymore than he had to. He was never good at them and he wanted to just leave. He saw Jones make a motion to meet him outside as the agent exited the house.

Neal sighed to himself trying to keep his emotions in check. He heard June come down the stairs after a few minutes. She touched his shoulder and placed something on his head as he turned. He glanced up and realized it was the hat he always wore, the one she said had been her husband Byron's favorite. The young man looked at her in surprise and she put a finger to his lips.

"It's yours. Take it." She took his hands in hers and he felt her push something else into his hand, something small cold and metallic. He opened up his hand and saw it was his passkey. She hugged him and whispered.

"Don't make me come look for you." He hugged her back tightly and nodded, feeling a few wet tears fall down his cheeks.

"I'll be back before you know it." She pushed him to arms' length.

"You're a terrible liar... Byron was too." He smiled as she did and without another word, he kissed her on the cheek and left.

Neal dropped the passkey into June's umbrella stand before he stepped outside, into the cool afternoon of New York City and glanced around one last time.

"_I'm coming Peter..._" He whispered to the air and started towards Jones at the end of the corner.

***

Jones looked down at the anklet and held the scissors over the strap, cutting it off. Neal rubbed at his ankle as he felt the weight of it removed. No more chafing. He had that to look forward to atleast if he lived to enjoy it. Jones handed the con a small pin.

"GPS tracker so we can get to you once Peter is free." Neal looked surprised, pinning the button onto the lapel of his weathered wool jacket.

"Hughes getting soft on me?" He tried to chuckle but saw the expression on Jones' face as he placed the anklet in a nearby wastebasket.

"No, mine. I told him Peter would insist on bringing you back safe." Neal blinked at the agent then smiled.

"I'm guessing Hughes wasn't happy about that." Jones shrugged with a fierce grin.

"Come on... almost show time. They said they wanted to meet you on the corner of this alley in about 20 minutes." The young man nodded to the agent, leaving the hat June gave him in the truck as he made his way out of the Utility vehicle and crossed the street to the meeting point.

Neal sat at the bus bench on the corner for nearly 15 minutes before he noticed a well-dressed man in a well-tailored Italian suit and full length leather jacket sit near him. The young man tried to look like he belonged there but the man had already begun to look him over, scooting over just a tad and whispering through the side of his mouth.

"I had heard you hit bad times, Caffrey, but this is ridiculous. That look went out with the Merchant Marines during World War 2." Neal stiffened, glancing sideways at the figure and recognizing them immediately.

"Eric. I never thought I'd see you again." The man shrugged, pulling out a small gold-plated cigarette case. He pulled a cigarette from the box and a match and lit it before replacing the item in his pocket. Neal coughed drawing a stare from Eric as he blew a smoke ring.

"Are you ready for the exchange? I'm sure there are eyes around waiting for it." The man waved slightly in the direction of the utility van and then stood.

"Come along, Caffrey." Neal didn't get up right away, the man looking at him in an annoyed manner, his veneer of politeness cracking.

"If you don't want to see the Fed alive, I suggest you stay where you are. Otherwise, follow me." His voice was commanding but quiet, the European accent making it sound even more severe and menacing. Neal stood reluctantly and followed the man after a quick glance at Jones and the other agents in the truck.

Eric led the young man down a nearby alleyway that seemed to go on forever before opening up into a small courtyard where a metal door was stuck in the side of a cinderblock structure. The windows on the side were sealed with foil although one edge had recently peeled away from the inside. Neal felt a sudden sense of eyes watching him as the other man continued forward. He called out to the figure, stopping near a dumpster several yards from the brick building.

"Eric, where is Peter? Show him to me." He saw the man turn and take another puff of his cigarette just before two figures jumped Neal from within the dumpster. He struggled but they held him down securely, a sweet smelling rag pushed over his nose and mouth securely. _Chloroform_! He tried to hold his breath but it was as if they anticipated that, a solid punch to his stomach making him gasp for breath. It was over quickly as everything went dark, his body unresponsive. He felt his jacket removed and himself stuffed into what felt like a canvas sack, the sound of a zipper the last thing he heard before he passed out completely.


	4. Chapter 4

Forced Fed 1c

Jones looked at the unconscious form of his superior, Ruiz already on the phone to Hughes and an ambulance. Another agent had pulled out a medkit they kept on hand and started to tend to Peter's shoulder wound, cleaning and dressing it as best they could till the ambulance arrive.

Several hours passed and Peter was set up in a hospital room with a guard. Jones brought Elizabeth personally to see her husband, staying outside and making a quick call.

"This is Jones. Any news on Caffrey?" He nodded into the phone but his face looked grim. "Thanks. Keep looking." He hung up the cell and pushed it into his pocket. Whatever had happened in that alleyway, they had managed to take Caffrey and hide him, the GPS button found in a dumpster still attached to the wool jacket the young man had been wearing.

Jones found a nearby chair and sat down across from the room and guard, his brow furrowed deep in thought. It had been a long 24 hours since they had first found out that Peter had been taken. Jones had been put in charge along with Ruiz to help find their boss and make sure everything was done by the book to get him back.

Now Peter was safe, Caffrey having agreed adamantly that he should be exchanged for Peter. Hughes had seemed incredulous to the idea especially when they had managed to acquire the ransom for the first demand and set it up to be tracked. Hughes was suspicious that Neal might be in on the whole thing, mostly why he didn't want the con involved, but Jones had gone to bat for the young man as had Ruiz and a few other agents. They knew how much Peter meant to Neal. The young con had become a useful part of their team. He had proved himself several times over to be on their side even if his methods were unconventional. Besides, Jones liked the guy. He wondered if Neal was OK.

"Jones?" The young agent peered up as Elizabeth called to him from the doorway.

"Peter wants to see you." She held the door open as he walked over and entered the room. Peter sat up slightly, pillows fluffed up behind him. The agent still looked a bit pale but he had gained much of his color back in the few hours since he'd showed up. Burke smiled at the young man and held out a hand.

"Clinton..." The young man stood beside his superior's bed, Elizabeth standing on the opposite side.

"Elizabeth told me Neal... he gave himself up for me?" His voice cracked a bit but it was still strong. Jones nodded.

"We had a hidden GPS on him because we had to cut the anklet but they must have figured it out." Peter's expression looked stricken, his face turning to his wife's.

"El..." He didn't finish, his head laying back on the pillow, eyes closed. Jones glanced at Mrs. Burke worriedly but she shook her head. After a moment, Peter opened his eyes again and looked at the young agent with a slightly angry look.

"It was Hughes' idea wasn't it? Dammit... I had hoped..." Jones coughed.

"Sir, Hughes actually had the ransom ready. Neal..." Peter blinked at the young man incredulously.

"Neal? Oh Lord... Neal... Why would he do this?" He looked lost for words, glancing up at El and holding her hand in his left. She was upset aswell, having heard the news only just before Peter was found.

"Does June know?" Jones looked at him and shook his head bringing a deep sigh from Agent Burke.

"After everything..." Jones shook his head.

"Peter, you don't understand. He wanted to help you and Elizabeth. He wanted to prove to everyone he was more than what he'd been labeled." Peter nodded, a sad look on his face.

"...But he didn't have to prove anything! He should have known that. Dammit, Neal...!" Peter closed his eyes again for a moment, his brow furrowed in frustration. After a moment he opened them and looked at the agent.

"No updates on his whereabouts?" Jones shook his head.

"Just called Ruiz. They haven't been able to do more than track the name of the man you identified and the one we saw with Neal. His name is Eric Marouex, a French national and antiquities dealer. No priors that we can see. Everything on the up and up from what we can find." Peter nodded.

"Never heard of him but I'm going to guess he and Neal were working together in the past. Keep an eye on Marouex and keep me informed." Jones nodded with a look up at El who smiled.

"I guess because it's for Neal's sake, I won't nag you about resting... as much." She looked down at her husband and brushed a few strands of hair from his head, Jones making his exit quietly.

***

Neal felt sick, his head pounding at the temples incessantly as he came to consciousness. His mouth felt dry, his tongue thick which he soon realized was from the rags stuffed there, tape pulled tight over his lips. He tried to move but his body was stiff and unresponsive, arms and legs numb from being bound. He lay there on his side against the cool concrete and tried to calm his breathing as his chest ached from having to breath through his nose. Soon he could breath a bit more normally, his eyes opening slowly.

The first thing he saw was a blurry sense of motion as someone paced back and forth infront of him, the sound of their footsteps quiet. His eyes moved up towards their face, his vision slowly focusing in and out so that he could just make out their features. _It was Eric_! Neal wanted to jump up and attack the man but he couldn't move more than his eyes at the moment. Instead he choked out a muffled groan as someone kicked him hard from behind. He saw Eric stop pacing and turn, looking down at the young man.

"Don't hurt him... much. We need him to tell us where his stash is." The man who had kicked him dragged the young man up to his knees by the hair, holding a sharp knife to his throat.

"I could make him talk, Eric. You know I could." This man's accent was also European but while Eric sounded French this man sounded like he could be German. It was hard to tell, the accent was a bit muddied with American and maybe some other nationalities. The cold metal cut at his skin but it was soon pulled away as he saw Eric glare at the man and he was unceremoniously dropped back to the cement. His head hit the floor with a soft thud making his nausea that much worse, his eyes closing as he fought it. Someone crouched near him, the tape yanked from his mouth, rags removed right after.

"Caffrey... I apologize for this but we have to know where your stash is. You do want to see Kate again don't you?" Neal opened his eyes again and looked up at the man. His vision swam in and out of focus, his mouth opening to speak but instead he threw up. Eric looked at his shoes as he backed away, the veneer of politeness gone.

"Do what you want with him till I tell you otherwise, Dirk. Maybe then he'll feel a little more responsive." Eric walked out of view, the sound of a door opening and closing somewhere nearby.

Neal coughed up a bit more but most of it was clear as he hadn't eaten anything in the last 24 hours. His stomach ached and he curled up weakly in pain till he felt himself pulled onto his back, shoulders held down securely as the French man with the knife pushed him against the floor.

"Hmmm... what should I do first?" The man waved the knife dangerously a few inches above the young man's face.

"Should I cut off an ear? Maybe a fingertip or two..." Neal's eyes widened, a choking sound from his mouth soon muffled as the French man pushed the rag back into his mouth.

"I think I might just start with..." He didn't finish his sentence stabbing the knife into the young man's shoulder suddenly. Neal contorted and twisted weakly in protest but the man held him down without much effort, the knife stuck securely in the wound.

"Tell Eric what he wants and this can end quickly. We'll leave your body for your friends to find. Closure is a good thing." Neal's eyes blinked back tears of pain.

"We would have done the same with your FBI friend but he escaped." Dirk sounded angry, twisting the knife as he finished speaking. "He's alot more fortunate than you will be." He smiled down at the con and pulled the knife out without warning, drawing more muffled groans from Neal. The man stood and wiped the knife clean on Neal's jeans before disappearing out of view, the sound of a door opening and closing.

Neal shuddered, his body in shock as the wound bled heavily, soaking his shirt through in minutes. He thought about Peter safe and sound with Elizabeth and that was all that kept him feeling like he hadn't done this in vain. He had atleast helped keep his _so-called_ friends from going back after Peter for now. Neal smiled to himself, his mind sliding into a slight delirium. He was only vaguely aware that someone stood to one side and crouched beside him. 

_"Neal... why did you do this?!" He turned surprised to see Peter there. The agent looked angry, making Neal want to retort like a pouting child. _

_"I did this for you and El! I thought it was the only way to get you back safely. I wasn't..." He saw Peter hold up a hand, his expression chiding. _

_"You weren't thinking were you?! You never think of the consequences of what could happen, Neal!" Peter stood and started to walk away, his voice fading. _

_"I can't help you this time. I'm tired of bailing you out of trouble. Good-bye, Neal." The young man rolled to his side weakly, trying to get up and follow his friend. _

_"Peter, please... I'm sorry. Don't leave me here! Please...!" _

In reality the young man's body shuddered as he dreamed, eyes shut tight, brow furrowed. A faint muffled "_Please_...!" left his lips before his face softened, head slumping to one side. He could hear his heart slowing down to a few beats till it seemed as if it had stopped. Somewhere he heard a sound like footsteps far away. Voices echoed around him.

"You idiot! I told you not to kill him!" There was a sound of hurried movements and then the voices went quiet and faded away.


	5. Chapter 5

Forced Fed 1d

==================

Peter lay in his hospital room looking around himself boredly. It had only been a day or so since his ordeal but he felt anxious to get out of bed and find Neal. Lying in a hospital room with nothing to do made him antsy. He had a TV to watch his games and other stuff, but his heart wasn't in it while he knew Caffrey was being held captive. He thought about the nightmare he'd been through in the few hours those _friends_ of Neal's had held him and wondered how the young man was faring.

Peter was in such deep thought about the situation he failed to notice a figure standing at the door. A loud rapping on the door woke him from his reverie as he turned and saw June standing in the doorway. Peter blinked at her surprised, sitting up and running a hand through his mussed hair.

"June..." She smiled softly, walking in and letting the door close softly behind her. She stood by the agent's bedside and took his proffered hand.

"I wanted to see that you were ok. El called me to let me know you were here when I couldn't get a hold of Neal. How is he?" Her manner appeared calm but he sensed an underlying worry in her voice. Peter wasn't sure how much she knew so he just answered as best he knew how.

"I'm feeling better. Shoulder hurts still but that's to be expected." He left out the part about Neal unsure of how to broach it but she sat down in the chair beside the bed, still holding his hand in hers.

"I noticed that Neal left with the clothes he arrived in." Her voice was matter-a-factly but he could sense the worry in her voice growing.

"I found his passkey in a letter in his room when I went to get the hat he liked. He left several letters..." She pulled one out and placed it in Peter's hand. The agent looked down at the plain paper envelope marked simply: "_Peter Burke_," turned it over with a surprised look and tore it open slowly. Inside was a plain piece of lined notepaper like you find in a binder. Neal's very neat handwriting was written in flowing semi-cursive script across the page. 

_Peter, _

_I never thought I'd be saying this to the person who put me in prison, but it has to be said. Of all the people in my life, Mozzie... Kate... you're the one I put the most trust in. Whenever I was in trouble, you were there to bail me out whether or not I deserved it. You always treated me fairly and told me the truth about things without the usual sugar-coating. You asked nothing __from me__ but to trust you and to be honest, which was a new concept after so many years of deception and games. I'm sorry if I broke that trust at any time. I never meant to, but old habits are hard to break._

I know my presence has caused problems for you and Elizabeth, and for that, I apologize. If everything works out, you _will__ come back safely in exchange for me. I just want to pay back the kindness you gave me with whatever I can do to help. You'll probably think this decision reckless, but I'm the one choosing this. __They__ won't get anything out of this besides a two-bit con who has lied about too many things to keep count._

Tell Elizabeth not to worry about me but let her know I'll miss her.

Neal  


Peter finished reading the note, his eyes looking a bit shinier suddenly. He dabbed at them with the bedsheet before cursing softly.

"Neal... I don't understand." He shook his head as if trying to figure something out and then it hit him as he looked down at the letter again. _**"**__**They**__** won't get anything out of this besides a two-bit con who has lied about too many things to keep count."**_ He looked up at June, his expression bright and thoughtful as if he had figured something out.

"June, can I see what Neal wrote you in your letter?" She blinked at him and nodded, pulling the envelope out of her purse. Peter took the letter from her and scanned it quickly. 

_June, _

_It must have been fate that led me to you when I visited the Thrift Store that day. You helped save a young man who was lost and unsure of his future._

You've been _nothing__ but kind to me and I cannot thank you enough for all you've given me. Thank you for sharing your stories about your late husband Byron and his exploits. I'll never for__get__ the gifts you've given me. You gave me a home and made me feel like I belonged._

I wish you nothing but the best to you and yours in the future. I only wish I could be there to share them with you. Forgive this young fool his past indiscretions. You were always like a guardian angel to me.

Adieu, my dearest June.

Neal 

Neal had left them a message. Peter was certain of it. Why else would these words be underlined. He pulled the small notepad and pen from the nightstand table and began to write down the underlined words. June watched him in quiet anticipation, then smiled at him with a slight grin as she figured out what he was doing.

"You think Neal left us a hidden message? Should I get the other notes he left for Haversham or anyone else?" He shook his head. "I get the feeling he knew I'd only have access to your message and mine."

When he finished writing down the list it looked something like this: 

_From me  
They  
Will  
Nothing  
Get_

Peter wrote down the key sentence: _  
_

_They__ won't get anything out of this but a two-bit con who has lied about too many things to keep count._

He turned to June and gave her a thoughtful look.

"Does this say what I think it says? There has to be more to this than what it seems." June peered at the notepad as he handed it over. She shook her head.

"He's just saying they won't get anything from him. What is it that they want, Peter? I knew he was searching for something, I just never knew what." She handed the notepad back to Peter who glanced at the page with a weary eye.

"He can't just have given himself up completely. I can't believe after everything we've done to show him how much we care for him, he would just let himself be sacrificed!" Peter lay back against the pillows and looked up at the ceiling with a frustrated expression. June took his hand in hers and patted it gently.

"He didn't want to lose you... or Elizabeth to be a widow. In his mind he was doing the right thing. Byron was very much the same kind of person, mostly why I find Neal so fascinating. My late husband always felt he had to do more to prove himself to others. I see so much of that in Neal." Peter turned and looked at her, his face softening a bit although the sadness was still there. He smiled slightly.

"Thank you, June." She nodded with a soft wistful smile of her own and stood up.

"I should let you rest, I'll be back tomorrow, if that's ok with you?" He sat up and nodded with a smile.

"Of course. They said I should be out in another day or two so please, feel free to visit. And if I hear about Neal... I'll let you know."

***

Peter looked at the door to his room for a good hour after June left, his mind deep in thought. June was a remarkable woman who had lived an incredibly rich and full life. He could see how a person like Neal would interest her and be interested by her. She reminded him so much of his wife Elizabeth and how clever and intelligent she was. He was very lucky to have a woman like El in his life.

Peter gave a little sigh, turning and seeing his wife asleep on the small sofa near the window. She showed up a while after June left, exhausted from a day of catering a large event. She hadn't wanted to leave him but he had insisted she go out. No use if both of them were miserable in the hospital. She had laughed at that, hugging him close. Now she lay curled up under one of his winter coats she had brought just incase he was released early. He smiled, watching her sleeping there, her face calm and innocent. He wanted to hug her but he was still too weak to get out of bed although he was feeling better than he had since the incident. His dreams still scared him a bit when he slept: dreams of being tied to that post even if it had been barely 24 hours it was long enough to know he did not want it to happen again. The idea of his experience made him give a loud intake of breath in response.

"Peter? You ok?" It was Elizabeth. She was suddenly awake, her bright blue eyes staring up at him from the sofa. She wrapped the coat around herself and stood up, walking over to his side. Peter grasped her hand in his good one and she leaned over to hug him and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Neal will be ok. I know he will. He's a survivor and he has friends and family to come back to no matter what he thinks. He knows you'll find him... Jones and Ruiz are looking day and night... even Hughes!" He smiled at that with a slight nod.

"I know... but does Neal? I always thought he knew how much we wanted him here but maybe... maybe I was too pig-headed to show him." He looked up into her eyes with a sense of desperation.

"He's just a kid and a naive one at that despite all his experience with conning. Someone is using Kate to get at him, to make him unable to change his situation. I..." His voice was quiet but there was an underlying frustration.

"I just wish we had an idea where they took him. If he was..." El hugged him tightly till he winced a bit from his shoulder wound and she loosened her hold.

"I'm sure he's fine. I have to believe he is. You do too." Peter looked up at his wife and saw a shimmer of tears in her blue eyes. He reached up and wiped one as it rolled down her cheek.

"You're right. He's going to be fine. We'll find him." Peter tried to make his words sound convincing to himself but something nagged at him he wanted to ignored. He tried not to think of the negative but at the moment, he felt like he was grasping at straws when it came to Neal. Without the tracker, how could he find the young man? He leaned into his wife's arm as she sat on the bed with him and tried to find hope in the situation. El was holding him gently, talking to him about her day and he telling her about June's visit when her cell started to vibrate.

"I thought I turned that off." Elizabeth slipped off the bed and walked around to the sofa where her purse sat. She opened it up and pulled her cell out. She glanced down at the phone briefly then stopped, eyes wide, mouth agape. Peter turned, looking at his wife curiously.

"El? Something wrong?" She just turned and looked at him, lips moving slightly.

"Neal..." Her voice was soft and barely audible, Peter looked at her again.

"What? I don't understand..." She interrupted him, walking over and showing him the phone as it continued to buzz.

"Neal... it's..." She handed the phone to him as if in shock and Peter glanced down at the cell. There was a new voice message from: _Jimmy Burger_. Peter blinked.

"Neal... how?" The Fed pushed "accept" on the phone and pushed the cell to his ear.

_(sound of static and something like a ship horn in the background. The sound of heavy breathing as if someone were having an asthma attack was obvious, a faint sound of someone trying to speak.) "He...He...lp... Pl... Pl...eassssse..." then the sound of the phone dropped and a thud. The background of a ship horn sounded again before a beep as the message was ended._

Peter blinked, looking up at his wife with a surprised expression.

"Neal... he's alive. I could hear him!" He smiled slightly, El hugging him gently and smiling back.

"He's ok? Oh, Peter. Where?" He shrugged, his expression darkening as worry set in.

"I heard the sound of boats so it has to be off the harbor area or shipyards. I can't be sure. I need to call Jones on this." He dialed on the cell quickly and waited, nodding as a voice answered.

"Jones? I think we may have found Neal!" He smiled slightly as an audible "_YES_" could be heard that El smiled in response.

"I will forward you the message he sent me and see if you can get someone to analyze the background noise. Thanks." Peter hung up the cell, forwarding the message and then handed it back to his wife.

"He's alive, El! He sounded so weak though. I want to go out and find him." Peter squirmed a bit, looking like he was going to get out of bed but Elizabeth stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Let Jones and the others do their jobs. You still need to recover yourself. Please?" She grasped his chin in her hand and moved his eyes to hers.

"It wouldn't be right if you hurt yourself finding Neal after all you've both been through. Jones will call back." Peter nodded at his wife's word and lay back in bed, her arm around him as she slipped in beside him.

"Now, I was thinking of sneaking in a little takeout. I know you hate hospital food. Sound good?" She smiled at him with a little wink and he hugged her with his good arm and kissed her on the lips gently.

"Sounds great. I'll flirt with the nurse if that will help you get the contraband through." El turned and gave a mock look of disgust at him.

"As if! Besides, you hate flirting and you're terrible at it. I'll muddle through." He smiled at her and she kissed him again before slipping out from beside him, picking up her purse and heading for the door.

***

Neal couldn't recall when he regained consciousness. He was in darkness for a long time, voices swimming in and out of hearing. Sounds floating around him randomly as he lay shivering and cold. It was the cold that finally woke him. He felt numb, body unresponsive as he could hear more things, his mind wakening as if after a long sleep, a drugged grogginess engulfing him and making his thoughts hard to hold on to. It took some effort of will but he was finally able to open his eyes atleast partway.

Stars sparkled overhead through the haze of the city, blurry and out of focus. He moved his eyes around looking to see the Brooklyn Bridge to his left. He looked at where he had been dumped and figured he was in the harbor shipyards. Eric must have panicked thinking Neal dead after Dirk's tactics and they threw him somewhere that wouldn't be so obvious. Still, why didn't they just throw his body in the river? Would have made things even more interesting for Peter and the rest to find him. He gave a muffled groan, a rag still stuffed in his mouth, pain washing over him as his body became more responsive. Neal wasn't sure what to think when he heard voices nearby.

"Finish the job, Dirk! You caused this. He could have led us to the music box and you killed him when I told you just to scare him." He heard the crunch of gravel underfoot as someone walked away from the scene and the sound of a car door opening then slammed shut. Neal managed to push himself up to his elbows to look in the general direction of the sound. He could just see past a pile of crates that a black sedan sat glimmering in the moonlight, Dirk standing outside with another man he didn't recognize. More than likely he was one of the two that jumped him in the alley when he went to get Peter. He watched the German talking to the other and then looking in his general direction. The young man froze, wondering if they could see him up and about but apparently he was hidden enough by the crates, they were just looking over as a means of reference than actual knowledge of his being conscious. If he could help it, he wasn't going to stick around. If they thought he was alive, he was as good as dead once they pried the info about the music box out of him and so was Kate if he couldn't get it for her. He had to act while he felt he could.

"Where is he?! Corpses don't just get up and walk away!" He could hear the two men arguing about him but he was safe, cold but safe. After a moment of looking around another voice piped in.

"What's taking you so long?" Dirk looked a bit scared but he just whispered harshly to the other guy who nodded with equal terror and they walked away towards the car.

"Sorry, Eric. He's alot heavier than he looks. It's done." He heard more sounds of car doors opening and closing then the sound of an engine roaring to life. The tires crunched the gravel of the docks and disappeared into the distance, leaving Neal alone in his hiding place, cold and shivering. The young man gave a sigh of relieve, pulling his arms close around him as he curled up inside the packing crate. It didn't take long for his wounds and the cold to knock him out into a semblance of sleep.

"_Neal... Neal..._"

The young man shuddered slightly in his sleep, his body shivering from cold and exhaustion but the voice kept calling to him, softly, gently. He opened his eyes and June was there, crouched beside him. He looked around him and he was in his bed at her home in his apartment. She smiled softly, pulling the blanket around him and tucking him in.

"June? How..." He felt confused for a moment wondering how he got here. Wasn't he just in another place? He had a nice warm feeling around him suddenly as she reached down and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead.

"You're safe, Neal. Just remember that. Peter is coming to see you soon. Rest and get better." Neal nodded at her and smiled slightly.

"Thank you June. I don't know if I ever told you how much your kindness has meant to me." She gave him a motherly look, mussing his hair slightly with one hand.

"Rest. We'll be waiting for you." He nodded sleepily, his eyes closing of their own volition. Something felt different now, a kind of calm descending upon him, and he felt at ease. He was needed and missed. His eyes felt warm, a few tears rolling from them as he felt the cold return and his body shivering. 

It was a beam of dim Winter sunlight breaking through a slit in the crate that woke Neal. He didn't know how long he had slept but his body was rebelling against him, stiff and sore from his injuries, the cold and his current position.

It took a bit longer than it should have but he managed to sit up and after a bit more work, he pushed the crate open again and rolled out into the dim afternoon of a New York Winter's day. He was in the docks area just off the Brooklyn Bridge. The sunlight although albeit less bright than usual nearly blinded him in his current weakened condition. He used a hand to visor his eyes and stumbled to his feet. His legs weren't working right but he managed with some effort to get across a few yards of shipyard and find a payphone. He pulled the receiver off the worn looking phone and heard a dial tone. It took some effort but he dialed the one number he could remember in his haze.

It seemed like the phone rang and rang before finally he heard a familiar voice answer.

"El?" He croaked into the phone but it wasn't her. 

_"Hi. You've reached Elizabeth Burke. Sorry I missed you. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!"_

Neal felt his strength failing him but he continued to stand, phone in hand. There was a brief _beeping_ sound and he tried to speak. He was losing consciousness but they had to know he was alive.

"He...He...lp... Pl... Pl...eassssse..." was all he managed to squeak out before his legs gave out beneath him and he collapsed to the ground, the receiver slipping from his hand. Neal looked up at the phone, vision blurring in and out of focus before he finally sunk back into unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

Forced Fed 1e

==================

He had to be dreaming. The young man heard a low constant "_beep beep_" in the background as he felt consciousness slowly wash over him. Voices in the background and other noises of people moving around somewhere far off drew his attention further from the darkness and into the light, his eyes fluttering opening. He was in a sterile looking white room dimly lit by a single lamp. He was tucked warmly with blankets, his bed surrounded by machines reading his heart rate and other vitals. It only took a moment for him to realize where he was and still he thought he was dreaming. He saw a window off to his right, curtained, a small sofa sitting before it and a figure laying there asleep. Neal blinked at the person, his memory hazy but more than that he was surprised by their presence. It was June.

Neal kept looking around him, seeing an IV stuck in his arm, the bland surroundings of the room, and a pitcher of water on the nightstand. He suddenly felt very thirsty, his left hand reaching up weakly for the pitcher when someone touched his shoulder. He turned to see June standing beside him, smiling softly.

"Hello, sleepy head. How are you feeling?" Her voice was motherly and calming. He smiled back at her with a surprised expression. His mouth opened but nothing came out and she nodded, patting him gently on the arm as she moved around to the nightstand and poured him a glass of water. His eyes followed her as she glided across the floor and helped him sit up. June held the glass to his lips and he sipped at it thankfully, his eyes looking up at her when he was done. She placed the glass on the nightstand and pulled a chair to his bedside, sitting beside him.

"I found your key in the umbrella stand..." Neal stiffened a bit at her blunt statement, a guilty look covering his face as he turned his face towards the window. Her voice held nothing but sympathy for him but he knew she was hurt by his actions.

"Neal, look at me... Please." He reluctantly turned to face her, eyes lowered but soon they were eye to eye as she grasped his chin in her hand gently.

"You know you can come to me if you're in trouble. You're like family. Remember that." He gazed at her, his expression contrite as he nodded slightly. She squeezed his chin in her hand gently and kissed him on the forehead.

"I was hurt that you left your favorite hat with Jones. He returned it to El and she gave it to me. It's safe at home in the wardrobe, waiting for you." Her smiled had quirked just a bit and he couldn't help but blush and smile back.

"Good, then we are in agreement. You won't do anything as foolish as _this_ ever again without consulting myself, Peter and El. Right?" He looked at her with a curious glance as she grinned back at him returning the grin.

"Promise me, Neal." He nodded, making a sign of crossing his heart.

"Now, this old woman needs to go home. I will come back tomorrow. Maybe you'll have found your voice by then." He nodded at her, feeling a smile on his face as she winked back at him.

"I'll let El know that you're awake. Peter's been wanting to see you but he's at home recuperating." Neal nodded to her with a thankful look as she smiled once more and exited the room with a soft: "_Good-night_."

Neal was alone. He looked around the room and tried to think of something other than being alone. He would really have liked to have June stay with him but he didn't have the voice to ask and even if he had, he didn't think he would have been able to say what he felt. He was thankful enough that she had stayed with him for whatever time she had, sleeping on the sofa and then talking to him. He still felt guilty for not confiding in her but she had forgiven him and that was enough for now.

Neal found the remote for the TV hanging off the side of the bed and turned it on. He muted the volume and flipped boredly through the stations. At some point he must have drifted off because he woke up to find soft sunlight streaming in through the curtained window and a nurse trying to remove the remote from his hand.

"You're awake. Your friend June left you a message." Neal nodded at the nurse and smiled tiredly up at her. He gave a little yawn and stretch as he waited for her to pass him the note. Instead she walked over to the door and opened it up, peering out a moment before she held the door open and gave a little nod to some unseen person. Neal heard footsteps. A figure shuffled into the room looking a little worse for wear. It was Peter. The agent walked over with a bit of a limp, his left arm in a sling, and an uncertain look on his face.

"Neal." His voice was quiet and sounded a bit hollow for what he remembered of his friend. The young con nodded, motioning for Peter to sit. The nurse helped to fluff Neal's pillows so he could sit up comfortably before leaving them alone. Peter sat in the chair, leaning back and giving a tired sigh. They sat in silence just looking around the room a bit before Neal coughed. It was the only sound he'd been able to make so far. His voice had abandoned him and not returned yet. Peter's attention was on him now, the young man's face blushing some as he opened his mouth to speak but couldn't. The agent nodded.

"June told me. She gave me your note." Peter's voice was contrite as he stared into the young man's eyes and took one hand in his.

"I would never expect you to sacrifice yourself like this. You're my partner and most of all a good friend." Neal shook his head, frustration making him want to shout but his voice refused to come. His hands hit at the mattress as he opened his mouth and nothing came out. Peter watched him struggle to speak, reaching over to pour a glass of water, handing it to the young man. Neal shook his head refusing the water, his face red with effort as he opened his mouth again.

"P...Pe...." He hit the mattress hard with his fist, his eyes shiny with tears.

"Pe... ter..." He looked at his friend and tried again.

"Pe...ter... so...sor..." He stopped there, laying back against the pillows exhausted, eyes closed. His voice was there but he was still too weak to make it work. He felt a hand on his head muss his hair and looked up to see Peter smiling down at him.

"I understand. Don't wear yourself out. Trust me. El will never forgive me if you hurt yourself trying to talk." Neal smiled at his friend with a weary nod.

"I'm just glad you're here and in one piece. Any chance Eric and friends are still in town?" Neal blinked, his expression thoughtful a moment then he shrugged and looked apologetic at the Fed.

"No worries. We have his picture on file and if he shows his face, he's going down for my kidnapping if not yours." Neal nodded with a fierce grin.

"I see you agree." They looked at each other a few more minutes, the silence uncomfortable again. There was still a slight tension between the two. Peter stood and paced around the room a bit before turning back to the young man from the opposite side of the bed.

"I nearly chewed out Hughes for making you give yourself up for me, until Jones told me they had already come up with the ransom." He moved back to the chair and leaned against it as he stood there.

"Did you really think you were so expendable?" His voice was filled with guilt but also a touch of anger. His eyes pinned the young man in place. Neal blushed a bit but sat up as best he could and stared back at the agent without turning away. He made a motion as if to speak but his voice failed him again. Peter's glance softened but he still looked a bit angry if not hurt.

"Neal, I would have thought you knew that you're an important part of not only my team but my family. If I made you feel otherwise... I'm sorry." He took the seat beside the bed and sat down, Neal looking at him with a curious look.

"Just... don't ever do anything so reckless like this again. Promise me?" The young man nodded with a little motion of crossing over his heart. Peter patted the young man on the shoulder, standing up.

"Are you hungry? El snuck in some take-out. I have those dumplings you like if you're feeling up to it." Neal's face lit up and he nodded with a smile.

"Good. Let me go get them from El. She's outside with June." Neal blinked to which Peter smiled.

"Yeah, they thought we needed a little "_time_" to talk. Neal made a face at the idea of "_feelings_," making a sign of _gagging_.

"Yeah, don't they know we guys don't do much more than punch each other in the shoulder and _grunt_." Neal nearly choked out an audible laugh.

"Well you haven't lost your sense of humor. Give me a second and I'll be back."

***

A few days later Neal wasn't just out of the hospital but he was back at June's in his old room. He was still pretty beat up from his experience so he slept in for a good day or so after his arrival with a few small visits from Peter and El. June would wake him from time to time to eat some soup or something else and he would read if he felt up to it but his quest for the music box and Kate was put on hold. His dreams consisted of other things, more importantly his newly formed family. He had a crazy dream of a birthday party for himself hosted by noneother than June and Elizabeth, who catered, and Peter brought some of the agents like Jones. Mozzie was there but nobody else from his past interfered with the day with anything negative. It was a nice dream. He was just going to blow out the candles when he heard the _buzz_ of his cell.

Neal woke up from the dream and looked around bleary-eyed as he reached for his cell on the nightstand. He didn't recognize the number but picked up anyway.

"Hello?" His voice was still weak but he could talk. There was silence and then a very quiet voice, a familiar one answered back.

"Neal? I'm so glad you're ok. I just had to be sure." Neal gawked into the phone, sitting up as best he could and listening.

"Kate? How did you..." She interrupted him.

"I can't talk long. I just had to be sure you were ok. I'm sorry, Neal. I'll call you when it's safe again." He heard a click and then a dial tone.

"Kate? Kate?" He pulled the phone from his ear and tried to redial the number but it came up as unavailable. He cursed softly and threw the phone down beside him on the bed. He heard a soft knock at the door and then June peeked in.

"Everything ok, Neal?"

He turned and nodded to her.

"Bad dream." He pushed the cell phone out of sight as she walked over.

"I understand." She sat beside him on the edge of the bed.

"Peter's downstairs. Feel like company?" Neal nodded still a bit on edge from the call and having waken up so abruptly. She gave him a brief pat on the shoulder before making her way back to the door and exiting. A few minutes later Peter peered in.

"Neal. Feeling better?" The young man nodded noticing his friend didn't limp much anymore and his color had returned to normal. He hadn't seen his own face so he wondered how bad he looked. Peter made his way over and pulled a chair with him, sitting.

"Jones and the rest of the agents send their regards." He pulled a small greeting card out and handed it to the young man. It had a picture of the spy vs spy agents and inside was blank except for the signatures of all the agents he worked with along with Peter and El's. He smiled.

"Thanks." Peter blinked.

"Ah... got your voice back I see. Guess your witty repertoire will soon follow?" Neal smirked.

"Perhaps. When do I get my anklet back?"

**(the end)**


End file.
